Whether it be salting the chimney, skinning the snowman's carrot, or flogging the eggnog in preparation for the holidays, the only thing that comes to mind this Christmas season is the Masturbator Freaky Deak.
The Deakurbator and his hands of fury were a high school engima from years past who Dar met through a mutual friend at a track meet. He seemed deakless enough, so after much persistence she relented and gave him her number. But then on one fateful night when all through Dar's house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse....I hate to wax-poetic but in the spirit of the holidays I'll carry on:
As Dar was hitting the pillow she then heard her phone,
And on the line was Deak with a deep breath and a moan.
Soon thereafter she heard what sounded like a splatter,
The only vision she had was of her angel food cake batter.
Dar immediately sprung out of bed like an elf,
It was apparent he was touching himself.
She thought to herself good riddance out of mind out of sight,
"Your hands will be the only stimulation you'll ever have, don't call me again, goodnight!"
That was the end of the Masturbator Deak - until the day Dar got Facebook. And it shouldn't come as a big surprise that his hands were at it again:
I think it goes without saying that Dar won't be meeting up with Jolly Old Saint Dick/Deak for any of his hand churned eggnog this weekend.
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